When I say I'm going Down, I'm not talking Mary J. Blige style.
Rose Royce either.
I mean lights low.
Music low.
Eyelids low.
Mental chatter low.
Breathing slooooooow.
Welcome to Down.
The Direction for when there's too much volume in the system and you need to turn dial a little to the left.
Sometimes that's from an eight to a six.
Sometimes you need to go all the way.
Curtains closed. Phone away. Consciousness cancelled.
Sleep.
But Down is bigger than sleep. And it isn't the same thing as feeling down either.
There's a whole valley between standby mode and totally switched off.
I wish people would spend more time wandering around in it.
TAKE THE SCENIC ROUTE
We have become very good at filling every available inch of consciousness.
Phone while watching television. Podcast while cooking. Music while showering.
Even relaxation has somehow ended up needing more.
Meditation app on. Candle lit. Perfect playlist. Sleep score being monitored by a watch.
At some point, babe, we just need to drop all of that shit.
Down to me is lessening.
Less light. Less noise. Less information. Less urgency.
THERE'S INFORMATION IN THE VALLEY
Speed changes what you can see.
Drive everywhere at 70 and you'll get there quickly, but you'll miss quite a lot through the window.
Our internal speed isn't much different.
When you're highly activated, you're primed to answer. Fix. Decide. Defend. Do.
Useful, when that's what the moment needs.
But some information doesn't shout loudly enough to compete.
Come Down and you notice the ache that's been whispering from your shoulder all day.
The jaw you hadn't realised you'd been clenching.
The breath barely making it past your chest.
Maybe you're not angry. You're hungry.
Or hurt.
Or tired.
Or perhaps you are absolutely fucking furious. Just not about the thing you were about to start an argument over.
Down can be the difference between firing off the email and reading it again.
Between forcing an idea and giving the better one enough room to arrive.
Between reacting to what you think is happening and noticing what actually is.
And sometimes the great message from within really is go to bed.
Listen to that too.
DON'T WAIT FOR THE CRASH
Most of us already know one route Down.
Keep going until the body pulls the emergency brake.
Can't concentrate. Can't decide. Can't tolerate one more notification without briefly considering throwing your phone into the Thames.
I'd rather we learnt the deliberate descent.
Knowing how to find the valley before you're dragged there.
So let your breath stretch a little longer.
Unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
Let your jaw hang loose.
Allow your shoulders to stop kissing your earrings.
Turn one light off.
Put the phone face down.
Let the room become quieter than you're used to.
Maybe that's enough.
Maybe you only needed to come from eight to six.
Or five or six.
Let the conversation finish.
Let the room darken.
Let your thoughts become less interesting.
Let today become something that happened rather than something you're still required to manage.
Let yourself be free.
Two.
One.
Zero.
Shop closed.
Sleep.
AND THEN, COME BACK
Down isn't a permanent address.
It's a Direction.
Sometimes you'll wander into the valley, notice what you needed to notice and turn around.
Sometimes you'll stay awhile.
Sometimes you'll sleep.
Eventually, life will require your participation again.
And perhaps you'll return to it seeing something you couldn't see from higher ground.
Lights lower.
Music lower.
Eyelids lower.
Shoulders lower.
Breath sloooooower.
Take the scenic route.
See what's waiting for you in the valley.
And if there's nothing particularly interesting down there...
close your eyes.
